


Paths of Pure White Snow

by Alyx Bradford (RogueBelle)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, House of Black, Marauders' Era, Winter, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2011-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueBelle/pseuds/Alyx%20Bradford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's snowing, which made me think of this fic and want to migrate it over to AO3. Originally written in 2007 for a friend's birthday. Uses my timeline and reasoning for ages (http://alyxbradford.livejournal.com/42255.html), as I refuse to acknowledge JKR's total lack of math skills.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Paths of Pure White Snow

**Author's Note:**

> It's snowing, which made me think of this fic and want to migrate it over to AO3. Originally written in 2007 for a friend's birthday. Uses my timeline and reasoning for ages (http://alyxbradford.livejournal.com/42255.html), as I refuse to acknowledge JKR's total lack of math skills.

_28 December 1969_

His words haunted her winter.

So much of it progressed like always. Andromeda always returned from school to find Ebony Manor precisely as she had left it, its ancient vaulted ceilings cobweb-free, its marble shining, its hallways whispered with the ghosts of her ancestors.

It was impossible to escape, as a Black. There was no getting away from them. To live in that house, to look upon her father and sisters, even to gaze in the mirror, to see in her own reflection the stamp of her blood, a true throw to the House of Black canon... there was never any getting away from it, from the weight of generations, bearing down on her, hounding her, reminding her of what she had been born.

 _'That isn't fair,'_ Andromeda chided herself, strolling through the library, running her fingertips along the spines of a row of books, without really looking at the titles. _'It isn't only here. It isn't only this place.'_ Her sigh disturbed the dust on the shelf.

In truth, there was no getting away from it anywhere. At school, she accorded a certain deference by virtue of her birth. For all the professors tried to equalize the students, and for as little as Andromeda had ever wanted to make a spectacle of herself, in Slytherin House, at least, they knew, and knew how to treat the scion of one of the wizarding world's oldest families. Outside of Slytherin, the other students looked on her with a mixture of awe and respect. _'And maybe it's my own fault...'_ Andromeda never pressed her stature, but it had been bred into her nonetheless, in her straight posture, her elegant carriage. _'It is the nature of lessers to defer to aristocracy...'_ she thought, mentally parroting one of her father's lessons. And, much as she would have liked to deny that in favour of a less egalitarian view, they all did.

_'Even Ted...'_

Andromeda's hand drifted to her throat, bare and unadorned. She couldn't wear his gifts here at home; her mother might be daft about most things, but she still had sharp eyes, particularly to see a scandal by. He remained with her nonetheless. Their last argument before she'd come home -- as much as Ted ever argued, but somehow the gentleness of his words gave them greater drive, enough to follow her all the way to Cornwall.

Wandering away from the rows of books, stacked atop each other up to the sixteen-foot ceiling, in this, the smaller, private library, Andromeda idled to the window, gazing out on the family grounds. A dusting of snow covered the ground, just enough to be played in. And, sure enough, Bellatrix had coaxed Narcissa outside, and even had her lying down, arms spread wide, sweeping angels into the landscape.

A smile warmed Andromeda's face. Bellatrix could be such a handful, and she worried sometimes for little Cissy's reserve, destined always to be outdone and beshadowed by Bella's exuberance, but they could both be such charming girls, and Andromeda loved her sisters fiercely. Leaning her head on the windowframe, she watched them playing. They had both received new winter coats and furs that Christmas. Bella's were a bright, royal purple, trimmed in a sable as dark as her own hair; Narcissa sported a coat of periwinkle blue, with an ermine collar fluffed up under her chin. Bellatrix had her eyes closed, her pretty face tilted up to what scant sunlight filtered through the haze of cloud cover, and she was smiling. Narcissa said something, and then they both started giggling, Cissy covering her mouth, but bright-eyed and rose-cheeked, and Bellatrix unabashed, throwing her head back into the snow, kicking her feet with mirth.

And Andromeda smiled. Closer in age to each other than Andromeda was to either of them, those two bickered plenty, of course. Bellatrix pulled pranks, so often with their cousin Sirius's help, and Narcissa did sometimes provoke her sister, in her quiet, subtle way. _'But they love each other... and they always will...'_ Andromeda mused, as Bella pushed herself up out of the snow, and offered her hand to Cissy to help her up, apparently engrossed with something further out in the gardens, that had suddenly become of immediate importance. Their giggles as they ran in the direction of the hedge maze rang up to the library window, ignorant of the watcher there.

But, whispering beneath their laughter, Ted's words, haunting her still...

_'How strong are you, Andromeda?'_

 

  
_The future lies before you_  
Like paths of pure white snow;  
Be careful how you tread it,  
For every step will show.  
\--Author Unknown  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please check out [my blog](http://cassmorriswrites.com)! I also write original fiction, and my debut novel will be out January 2018.


End file.
